


Special Little Friendship

by DiamondDoll87



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:12:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3862840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondDoll87/pseuds/DiamondDoll87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little friendship is formed in the halls of William McKinley High.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Little Friendship

**Special Little Friendship**

 

Quinn Fabray, ice queen extrodinaire, was at her most unwelcoming today. Crumbled on the floor with her normally shiny, bouncy hair lying flat and listless on her tanned shoulders. Quiet sobs racked her petite frame violently and she did nothing to stop the tears falling freely down her normally rosy cheeks. It was a scene unbecoming the image she had spent years cultivating, that of the aloof head cheerleader.

A letter with a few hurriedly scrawled handwritten sentences lay abandoned on the cold floor a few inches from her body. A black-and-white polaroid of a smiling, seemingly happy blonde-haired baby was sitting on her knees, reminding her of her greatest regret. Her inability to be a mother to her child.

The baby girl, Beth, Quinn had given up for adoption over a year ago, looked so healthy and full of life that it had broken a little something inside of her. Maybe it was selfish of her to hope her little girl still remembered and missed her biological mother as much she Quinn missed her but it was something she couldn't shake. She knew Shelby would give her a happy home but the thought of Beth never knowing who she was, was killing her.

If you applied logic to the situation, it was easy to see that Quinn hadn't been anywhere near ready to step into the shoes of a mother. Still a teenager and with practically no support from her family, she didn't have the means to mother a child and offer her a safe place to grow up. Still, her regrets ate away at her. The what ifs.

Artie Abrams had stumbled upon this scene minutes ago and didn't know how to react to it. Should he make his presence known to her or quietly flee without the blonde knowing he had ever been there? Artie felt trapped; if he left without offering at least a few comforting words, he would feel like he was abandoning a friend in need. On the other hand, interrupting a moment so private, didn't quite feel right either.

Several more minutes passed as he tried to rack his brain for the correct way to handle the situation. Finally, the decision was made for him as Quinn, having sensed a presence behind her, turned her head and locked eyes with his.

“What do you want Artie? Have you taken up stalking recently?” She said, the hostility dripping from her voice. Her tear-stained face had morphed into a steely glare.

“I'm sorry. You looked so sad, I didn't want to leave you.” Artie replied, keeping his voice soft and comforting. He had grown to like her very much in the last few months and wished to say or do something that would make her feel better.

“Please Artie, go away. I don't want anyone to see me like this.” She said, a quiet sob escaping her lips. She hurriedly turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as she felt the tears starting to flow once more.

“Hey, don't cry. I'm here,” Artie said, rolling his wheelchair closer to the blonde. He knew what was making her cry. As much as she had pretended to be tough and cool, Artie knew how upset she really was about giving up her daughter. Since he and Puck, Beth's father, had gotten closer, the tough façade had slowly peeled off of Puck and he had confessed his own feeling of having let down his daughter to him. As he looked at the childless mother, he felt deep compassion for her pain.

“You pity me, don't you? I can see it in your eyes Artie so don't you dare to deny it. You think I'm an irresponsible slut who got herself knocked up and was too selfish to care about her child,” Quinn ranted, letting out all the frustration she had locked away over the last year. She didn't know why she was lashing out at him since they had barely exchanged a few intimate words during the years.

“I think you are amazing Quinn. It took real strength to know that you weren't ready to take care of a child. Beth now has two mom's who would do anything for her instead of one who was struggling to cope.” He was trying his best to offer words of comfort and acceptance. Maybe all the years of watching Dr. Phil with his mother was finally paying dividend.

“I know she's better off without me but I miss her so much.” Quinn said, her eyes so sad and lifeless, it scared Artie.

“Hey, it's alright. You did what was best for her. When she's older, she'll know all the things you sacrificed for her happiness,” he said, wheeling close enough so that he could stroke her golden hair, soothing her as she cried helplessly.

“I'm sorry that you had to see this. Must of ruined your day, didn't I,” Quinn said, leaning closer to him. His hand felt good in her hair, it was the kind of closeness she hadn't felt in a long time. Sure there had been Sam and Finn but neither had touched her with such gentleness and care.

“You needed a shoulder to cry on. I'm here for that if you let me. I want to be your friend Quinn, I really do. You look like you might need one.” Artie said, squeezing her right shoulder.

“Thanks Artie, that means a lot. It really does. Would you mind if we just sat here like this, for a little while?” Quinn asked, her voice so childlike and innocent, he happily obliged. For the next half an hour, they sat like that in pure silence contemplating their life and the future. Slowly the tears stopped falling and she felt a little more okay with everything. Maybe she had indeed needed someone to talk to about Beth. Honestly talk about her, without all the pretences of being fine.

So on a dreary Thursday in Lima Ohio, a most unexpected friendship was forged. One that was only for them, not for the prying eyes of the Glee club.


End file.
